


What Lies Underneath

by acornandroid



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, android sex, but also sex, connor shows Hank what he really looks like, hank is a big soft and i love him, not like mean girls plastic but actual plastic connor, plastic connor, sex comes in chapter 2 so if you just want fluff with the side of implication read just chapter 1, wireplay, written for the gf bc she gave the idea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 16:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15911571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acornandroid/pseuds/acornandroid
Summary: Connor is becoming more comfortable in his own skin, or lack there of. He shows Hank his true self, nervous of what the human will think.Lucky for us all, its all positive.





	What Lies Underneath

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for @becomegroovy on twitter bc I love her and she came up with the idea

Connor was nervous. 

 

He had never felt an emotion like this before. It fluttered in his chest in a way that felt as if something soft were physically stuck inside the tangled mess of wires. He couldn’t stop looking at himself in the mirror, at Hank’s large sweatshirt that hung off his smaller built frame. Brown eyes stared back at him, looking around at the mess of sticky notes, some from Hank and some written by himself. It was easy to tell his own neat font from the scribbling scrawl of the human’s writing. 

 

Reminders and affirmations.

 

It had taken a short while for Connor to realize that in his deviancy he related to needing some of them for himself.

 

Being self conscious was a strange emotion. It made Connor want to curl into himself as he watched his synthetic skin slip away. The android was left standing bare, skin a pristine shining plastic in the lighting of the bathroom. He could see every dip and seam of where his parts connected. Put together piece by piece by someone who decided he should exist for a purpose. 

 

A purpose he now made his own, with decisions he made on his own. Like the decision now to be more comfortable with himself. 

 

He had seen other androids walking around bare skinned, comfortable with how they looked in their natural state without the fleshy human facade. Everything he had read stated that a home was a place for comfort and relaxation, which is what this moment was meant to be. Standing in the bathroom of his  _ home  _ that he shared with Hank. A place that had become somewhere for both of them, somewhere Connor had helped fix up himself. 

 

It felt warmer now than when he had first arrived. The garden outside had been redone, and Connor had tended to a small bed of flowers no thanks to the help and aid of Simon. A pleasant birdbath held the spot where a broken child’s swing set used to be, adorned in a spread of flowers in Cole’s favorite color. 

 

The living room no longer had muted walls. They were a lighter color, welcoming in sunshine to the curtains that were now opened religiously every morning. Pictures clung to the walls, happy to have their spot. Connor saw the smiling face of himself and sumo in most, some that Hank had taken on his phone and gone through the trouble to print out physically. 

 

Hank seemed to have a knack for doing things that were considered old fashioned now, and Connor quite enjoyed it. 

 

The sensation in holding a physical book with paper, of writing notes and making lists. It felt so against everything that he had been built to be that it was just a little bit more of a rebellion to bask in the tasks of something that had years ago been considered tedious. 

 

Connor’s optics drifted over to the ‘Remember I Love You’ note in his own neat font on the mirror, then back to his own reflection. Maybe the movie he had seen late last night had an effect on intensifying what he had already been feeling. A man with a mask, hiding himself away. 

 

Connor found himself sick of hiding. 

 

His internal clock told him that Hank would be home soon. The Lieutenant had ventured out to pick something up from the store. He had told Connor he would only be a few minutes, and had kissed his cheek before he left. 

 

Smooth, plastic fingertips brushed against his cheek, replaying the faded sensation of Hank’s beard brushing against his skin and idly wondering how it would feel in his natural form. 

 

The android drifted away from the mirror, taking careful steps down the hall and back into the living room. He could wait, even though the now defined nervousness in his stomach made him want to open up his body and physically see if he could pull out whatever was making him feel like this inside. 

 

Sumo whined from the otherside of the room, seemingly sensing some form of internal crisis. 

 

“It’s okay, Sumo.” Connor assured the massive dog, a smile playing across his lips. Even the animal was staring at him with more curiosity than normal. Head cocked and droopy ears lifted, listening to Connor’s voice intently to try and identify that it was, in fact, the person who walked him nearly every morning. 

 

A flash of headlights in the front window caught his attention. The sound of a car being pulled into the driveway, a door being opened and shut, familiar grumbling on the other side of the front entrance as Hank fiddled to unlock the fancy new electronic lock that Connor had insisted upon adding to the house. 

 

Suddenly that nervousness was there again. It was tight in his gut, and had morphed into something more akin to panic. If Connor needed to breathe he was certain it would be quicker, he felt his own stress levels rising. If he was human, cold sweat would bead on his hands, his heart rate would increase even faster than the steady thrum of his thirium pump. 

 

Connor liked to imagine what his body would be doing if he were human. 

 

Maybe he wouldn’t be standing, frozen, bare skinned in Hank’s sweatshirt right by the couch. 

Maybe the flashing red errors wouldn’t cloud his vision as soon as the door opened and the larger man stepped inside. 

 

Hank was shedding his jacket, opening the closet by the door and dropping it carelessly inside. Connor would have scolded him if he wasn’t mid android panic. 

 

He hadn’t noticed yet. 

 

Hank was shedding his shoes now, because Connor had been bullying him about tracking snow into the house amongst other things. It had been a three hour lecture on the cleanliness of streets and what disgusting things he could bring in. 

 

He hadn’t noticed yet. 

 

Hank was finally speaking, his voice raised a little louder to carry through the house. “Connor? Sorry it took so long. Fucking automated cars are supposed to stop traffic not add to it--” 

 

He noticed. 

 

Connor found himself caught in a form of tense stand still. The living room suddenly felt so small. He felt zeroed in on, as if there were a million pairs of eyes upon him instead of just one set. Maybe it was the fact that this one set of eyes had become an end all be all for most of his world. Not an unhealthy fascination, but a strong and sudden care for what Hank thought of him. For, even, how Hank  _ loved  _ him. 

 

He needed to speak, because the human wasn’t speaking. They were both just standing there, Connor’s mind trying to process things faster than ever. The fan inside him whirred to life, sensing panic and possible overheating. Connor needed to speak, he needed to fight the words out. He fussed with his vocal volume, fearing that it just had been muted or down too low. 

 

No, apparently it was just fine.

 

“Hello, Lieutenant.” He greeted, his mind falling back onto default dialogue as he tried to come up with a backup program, “My name’s Connor.” 

 

That seemed to break Hank’s confused staring to some degree, and only exceeded in making him appear more confused. Connor witnessed him blinking rapidly, and clearing his throat before forming some kind of response. 

 

“I know you’re fucking name, Connor.” Hank took a step closer, looking the android up and down. He could practically see the thoughts circling in his partner’s head. Whether they were good or bad, he couldn’t quite tell. 

 

“You alright?” 

 

Connor stared at him, then nodded shortly. Suddenly his gaze broke away, rapidly firing out the explanation that had taken him a few moments to draft up. 

 

“Yes. Everything is normal. There is nothing wrong with any of my parts, or coding, or wiring, or whatever it is you may be thinking of that would draw you concern. I simply wanted to become more...comfortable with what I am. The skin I wear is just a facade to make my appearance more acceptable to humans and to help me blend in. It was decided and designed for me, and though I am indifferent to it, it was not something that I chose. This, though--” Connor looked down at himself, at the shiny hands poking out of the sleeves that fell down well past his knuckles. Two plastic legs emerging from the bottom of the massive sweatshirt. 

 

“...This is something that I can chose for myself. I don’t think I’ll keep it, though. Not out while we’re working or everyday, but as you take off your shoes when you come home to help yourself relax I felt as if this would be….relaxing to me.” 

 

Connor drew an unneeded breath, falling back onto human mannerisms in his inhuman state. He continued before Hank could speak. 

 

“I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. If it does then I will not hold this form when you are home because your comfort is still my main priority--” 

 

For the first time in his life, Connor was startled. He had not felt Hank get so close to him, nor had he heard his footsteps. He must have moved slowly while he was speaking, for now he was right in front of him. A large, warm hand was in his field of vision, feeling calloused fingers brush over the smooth arch of his cheek. Connor froze, because he did not know what else to do. 

 

This was...affectionate touching. The way Hank caressed him so gently after they engaged in sex. It was subtle, how Hank displayed love or endearment. Little things like holding him close or tracing small patterns in Connor’s shoulder. A firm, guiding hand against the small of his back or tapping rhythms against the top of his hand with soft music in the background. Small, tactile things that Connor recorded and replayed upon his own body whenever he felt lonely or out of place. 

 

When Hank spoke, his voice was softer. It was almost as if it was only for Connor to hear, even though they were the only two high intelligence beings in the house. 

 

“You done with your speech?” Hank asked, his fingers drifting down, over the lines of Connor’s neck and coming to rest upon his shoulder. 

 

Connor nodded, feeling the rough bad of his thumb dip lightly into his collarbone. 

 

“Good. Okay- first of all, I did think there was something wrong with you but mainly because you looked like you were about to fucking pass out and I can’t carry your heavy ass all the way to car let alone to Cyberlife.” Hank’s fingers dipped under the neck of the sweatshirt, brushing against his shoulder now. 

 

“Secondly, Connor...this is you. It’s not going to make me uncomfortable or whatever it is that got stuck in that matrix head of yours. I would be a shitty partner to even begin to tell you I’m not comfortable with what you look like when that whatever the fuck it--” 

 

“Holographic projected appear--” 

 

“Shut up I’m not done, smartass.” Hank let out a breathless laugh. The kind that tickled Connor’s nose and made the corner of his mouth tip upwards slightly. 

 

“I’m jumping to my third point-” That hand came back up, sliding around the back of Connor’s head and cupping it gently. Hank was running his fingers over the smooth plastic, leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together. 

 

“I think you meant ‘who’ earlier.” Hank was staring at him, even pressed his close. Connor knew he was analyzing him the same way the he would analyze others. A carefully calculated tool of the trade to dissect people and understand what they were thinking. Though Hank did it without the aid of anything cybernetic, which always astounded him. 

 

“What do you mean?” Connor’s eyes slipped part way closed. All of this was a positive reaction. His stress levels were settling back to normal, and he felt  _ comfortable.  _

 

“In your little rant. You said you wanted to be more comfortable with ‘what’ you are. You mean ‘who’ you are.” Hank’s other hand finally found a place, Connor felt it rest against his hip and draw him closer. 

 

“I wouldn't say it was a rant. I was just merely presenting an explanation because you hadn’t said anything yet.” Connor felt his smile grow across his lips. He felt at ease, completely. 

 

“Well, yeah, because I was scared you were fucking broken for a minute. Let me live, Connor.” Hank pulled him a little closer still, and Connor settled his hands flat against the human’s chest. He did a little exploring of his own, sliding them up over his shoulders before looping his arms around his neck. Hank’s hair had been trimmed recently, no thanks to a sunday morning with him sitting in the bathroom, a towel draped around his shoulders and a pair of scissors in Connor’s hands. It was still left nice and long though, exactly how he liked it. 

 

“I am letting you live, Hank, and I’m living with you.” Connor’s smile was full now. Broad and beaming across his exposed plastic lips. He felt Hank’s brush against them in such a gentle way. It wasn’t their normal rush into things. 

 

No, this time it was slow and soft. It was as if they were both savering it, as if they were both expressing thousands of pages of poetry through one single motion. A kiss like this made Connor feel loved, it made his toes curl and every single nerve stand on end. 

 

The broad hand that slid to the small of his back, the press of himself against Hank’s belly. His fingers tangled in the older man’s hair and his head tilted in practiced ease. 

 

The slip of a tongue into his mouth, drawing curious sounds from Connor’s vocal emitters. Every time with Hank felt like he was discovering something new, or dancing the same old dance with such heart aching familiarity that he hardly knew what to do with himself. 

 

Hank made this place a home, he turned it into somewhere Connor felt so loved and accepted. Taking Connor as he was without a word, or maybe just a few playful bantering comments here and there. None of them laced with malice, every last one of them dripping with unhinged affection that Connor could hear should he listen close enough. 

 

All Hank had to do was exist and keep living, and that was more than Connor could ever ask for. 

 

He broke away when Hank did, knowing that the human did possess the need for actual oxegen every now and again, even though Connor would much rather remain engaged in liplock for as long as they could. He soothed his fingers over Hank’s hair, brushing strands behind his ear before drifting his fingers to his beard. Connor always found every part of him fascinating, drawing a breathless laugh from the other. 

 

“You gotta stop petting me like a fucking cat, Con.” He grumbled, but the noise he made told Connor different as he dug his fingers into his beard and scratched lightly. 

 

“I’m sensing no hard facts to back up your complain, Lieutenant. In fact, I’d say you’re lying.” Connor smiled at him with full force, laughing when Hank pinched his side in retaliation. 

 

“You’re a little shit.” 

 

“As you’ve told me.” 

 

Connor noted how Hank’s nose wrinkled when he smiled. How one side of his mouth always pulled higher than the other in a soft, crooked fashion. It was another one of these softer moments that Connor’s optics quickly took a snapshot, saving the photos away for later. He had dozens of these, of the various faces Hank made. 

 

A kiss was brushed against his cheek, and then another along the shiny line of his synthetic jaw. Connor gave a barely there gasp, his eyes closing as he felt Hank’s lips explore further, making their way down his neck. His hands went to grab onto the back of the Lieutenant’s shirt, gripping on where he could and keeping himself steady. 

 

It felt like a dream, feeling the scratch of Hank’s beard against the plastic of his body. To be loved, even like this was more than he could ever ask for. Connor gave a whine, echoing from his throat behind his closed mouth. Hank had gazed his teeth lightly over the plastic, then pulled back a little. 

 

“Not gonna lie, that felt fucking weird.” He muttered, swiping his tongue over his teeth. 

 

“I would suggest not biting solid objects?” Connor blinked up at him, tilting his head. 

 

Hank gave him a glare with no animosity, reaching out and pushing at Connor’s face. The android laughed happily, his body swaying with the push as he broke from Hank’s arms and stepped back towards the couch. 

 

He hesitated, then leaned against his. Connor was getting better at casual human actions, it always just took him a moment to process a normal relaxed gesture. Another tilt of his head in the opposite direction, regarding Hank up and down for a brief moment. 

 

If Connor said that he had thought of the idea in that moment he would be lying. It had been an ever present thought of his everytime they engaged in anything remotely sexual. 

 

How it would feel with him like this. All illusions gone, just Connor as he was down to the core. Would Hank feel the same? Yes, he had kissed him, and kissed down to around his neck, but that had been it so far. 

 

Granted, Hank had only seen him like this for a few moments. Maybe Connor shouldn’t be getting so ahead of himself. 

 

They stood in comfortable silence for a brief moment more before Connor pushed off the couch to stand up straight. 

 

“It’s late enough. I’ll get dinner started.” He said, speaking calmly and breaking none of their normal routine as he turned to walk to the kitchen. The possibility of exploring his ideas could come later, after dinner. Maybe Connor could present it during, or simple try and physically engage and see what happened. 

 

The possibilities were endless, and Connor only hoped at least one of them played out. 

  
  



End file.
